The knight, kneeling on the ground, froze for a moment before bursting into laughter, his voice muffled through the helmet. However, the movement aggravated his wound, causing him to hiss in pain.
"Do you find this funny?"
Garen pushed his longsword forward, the sharp blade now lightly grazing the knight's throat. The cold touch and the looming presence of death made the Swadian knight fall silent, unable to utter a sound.
When his gaze met the fiery-haired youth's chilling eyes, a deep fear took hold of him, far more terrifying than facing a dozen pirates. He didn't doubt for a second that if he didn't answer correctly, that knight's sword would pierce his throat and crush his windpipe.
"Hey, boy, relax," the knight said quickly, throwing his sword aside and raising his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am a Swadian Grand Knight, known as the Skywing. You can call me Draven."
"As for... why I should be spared? It's because I can teach you a Grand Knight-level sword technique. In exchange, you must spare my life and protect me while I recover from my wounds."
The words tumbled out of Draven's mouth, surprising even himself. A Grand Knight was begging a boy—someone who wasn't even a squire? If word got out, Draven's reputation would be ruined.
But facing this young man, he didn't dare speak with any authority.
"Let's adjust the terms," Garen said coldly, "I'll spare your life in exchange for a Grand Knight-level sword technique. But you must swear, by the Holy Knight's name, that you'll honor your word."
"As for protecting your safety, that requires a different price."
"Of course, within my power, I can protect you until you recover. Beyond that, it's not my responsibility."
"Alright, it's your turn to decide. I'll count to three, and when I finish, my sword will pierce your throat."
Garen's voice was calm as he began counting slowly.
"One..."
Draven immediately raised his hands, hurriedly speaking: "I agree! I agree! No need to count!"
He crossed his hands over his chest, removed his winged helmet, revealing a weathered face, and solemnly began swearing:
"I, Draven, swear by the name of the Grand Knight Commander of the Swadian Imperial Knights, by the most sacred of knightly oaths, to enter into a sacred agreement with this young man—Garen Stark—"
Draven paused and glanced at Garen. "Ah, I forgot to ask for your full name."
"Garen Stark."
"Oh, right, got it!"
Draven continued his oath: "I, Draven, swear by the name of the Grand Knight Commander of the Swadian Imperial Knights, by the most sacred of knightly oaths, to form a sacred contract with Garen Stark. In exchange for the Grand Knight technique—The Dragon-Slaying Slash—I will give my life."
"From this moment forth, I swear to honor this contract and never break it!"
After a moment, Draven opened his eyes and smiled. "There, all done, right?"
Garen nodded and slowly withdrew his sword, though he kept the tip just inches from Draven's throat, ready to strike at any moment.
Although the continent was rife with conflict and treachery, the knightly code was absolute, which made Garen feel relatively secure. But still, he felt it was better to secure something more useful, so he spoke again.
"The sword technique will spare your life, but if you want to heal your wounds, there will be additional terms."
Draven's face turned bitter.
"Besides my armor, helmet, and weapons, you can take anything you want."
"Do you have any Life Essence?" Garen asked casually. That was a rare item, essential for advancing to the rank of Grand Knight, and almost impossible to find.
"What? Are you kidding me, Garen? Life Essence? That's something the Six Kingdoms are constantly after, with only five or so produced each year. Even dukes and lords spend vast amounts of money to get a hold of it. There's no way I have something like that!"
"Do you think being a Grand Knight means I have everything? I'm poor. Knights are poor!"
Garen fell silent. In this era, knights often appeared wealthy, but in reality, they lived in poverty, having to maintain and repair their own equipment. Only those in the church knight orders had a steady income.
"What about Ocean's Heart?"
"I'd rather you just kill me."
"Magic Stones?"
"Why don't you just become a bandit!"
...
After asking about ten different items, Garen confirmed one thing: this Grand Knight Draven was incredibly poor.
"Here's the deal. I'll help you heal. Once you're fully recovered, you can accompany me for a few days. How about that?"
Garen turned his face, calm and composed. "I suspect you came here to gather intelligence, but I don't care about the conflicts between Swadia, Vicia, and Nord."
Draven froze, cold sweat beading on his forehead. This kid... he was sharp, meticulous, and not easy to fool. So, Draven reluctantly agreed.
A day later, after Draven had healed about 30-40%, he began teaching Garen the sword technique.
In the wide, snowy field, Draven stood solemnly, gripping his longsword with both hands, its tip pointing towards the sky.
"The Dragon-Slaying Slash, a Grand Knight technique, was created by the legendary knight Dawnblade."
"I'll demonstrate it once, watch carefully."
With that, Draven swung his longsword with tremendous force. The sword's gleam flashed, and a faint dragon's roar seemed to echo in the air, lingering long after.
Garen's eyes lit up, his heart stirred with excitement. This was indeed a Grand Knight technique, with the sword aura itself resembling the presence of a dragon.
"007, display the data!"
Following Garen's command, Draven's attributes appeared clearly:
Draven, Grand Knight, Strength 4.5, Agility 4.8, Spirit 0.9. Special Technique—Dragon-Slaying Slash.
At the same time, the moves of the sword technique appeared in Garen's mind, like he had learned them instinctively.
Swish, swish—
The crisp sound of air being sliced rang out as Draven demonstrated the technique without holding back.
After finishing, sweat dotted Draven's forehead, showing signs of fatigue.
"This sword technique isn't easy to master. I'll teach you, but whether you can learn it depends on you."
"It took me six months to fully grasp this technique, practicing tirelessly day and night."
"As for you... it could take a year or more to even start to understand it. After all, the Dawnblade technique isn't something that can be learned quickly."
"Take your time, Garen. Don't rush. If you can't master it right away, just keep practicing. Heh."
Draven smiled, though there was a hint of mockery and satisfaction in his expression, a slight sense of revenge for the boy's arrogance.
However, when he turned around, his smile froze.
In the distance, Garen, with his fiery red hair, was already mimicking the technique, his posture and movements flowing perfectly, as if he had mastered the technique instantly. His precision and control were on point!
Draven gasped, feeling a pang of defeat. This kid... was a freak! His talent was so extraordinary that even legendary knights would feel inferior.
Damn it, this brat's talent was so extraordinary, even the Dawnblade would be envious.
Garen completed the set of moves and, looking at his sword, sighed with mild dissatisfaction.
"It's still not quite right. When you swung the sword, I could hear the dragon's roar. Why can't I hear it?"
Draven nearly choked on his own words. With a deep breath, he tried to stay calm and said with forced politeness:
"You think you can master it after seeing it once?"
Garen, looking slightly guilty, asked meekly, "Is the technique difficult?"
"Is it difficult? Garen, do you even know what you're saying? This technique, out of all the Grand Knights, only I've mastered it. Do you have any idea how hard it is? You better figure it out yourself. I don't want to talk to you anymore. I need some peace and quiet."
Garen sighed, knowing that the difficulty was immense, but he was already committed. He walked off to continue practicing.
---
Three days later, Garen returned to the Sunset Fortress, feeling conflicted as he looked at the building before him. The events of the past few days flashed in his mind.
To be honest, he hadn't wanted to come back, but with the knightly title at stake, he had no choice but to attend.
In this era, becoming a knight was the only way forward.
"What's wrong, kid? Are you nervous about coming home?" Draven teased as he munched on a rabbit leg.
"You've returned, young master," a servant, Nal, walked out of the fortress with an awkward expression. "Come in quickly. The master doesn't have much time left."